


Forgotten

by WhatICantShowYou



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Daddy Kink, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:35:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28007046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhatICantShowYou/pseuds/WhatICantShowYou
Summary: Lambert shyly trying to be a good boy and worthwhile, but Daddy-Vesemir missing his cues until the boy is practically crying for it.A prompt from @afterhoursfic’s tumblr that I vibed with... a lot... so I filled it.
Relationships: Eskel/Vesemir (The Witcher), Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Vesemir, Lambert/Vesemir (The Witcher)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 67
Collections: Wasn't Quite Expecting This (But I Loved It)





	Forgotten

**Author's Note:**

> Read Afterhoursfic’s content here:  
> afterhoursfic.tumblr.com
> 
> And the prompt that I wrote this from is here:  
> https://afterhoursfic.tumblr.com/post/637167066222313472/ohhh-baby-slut-lambert-love-the-idea-of-him

Winter had settled across the continent and most witchers had cooped up in their keeps for a well-earned rest, the wolves no exception as they lazily lounged around the castle and did their chores. Vesemir was a good mentor and praised his boys for their behaviour, never expecting much from his tired pups that had been out for the entire year and happily doted on them throughout the days. 

It was no secret that Eskel was the man’s favourite, Geralt coming in a close second. It wasn’t a competition, Lambert knew, but his brother’s were still winning. He would coo at their smiles and pet their faces as he fed them his cock, spend hours with them in his lap and carry them to his bed as the moon rose across the dark sky outside.

Lambert was more than happy to let his brother’s have the attention, leaving them space when he saw fit and exiting the room they occupied when he wasn’t needed, but once in a while it hurt him to know just how easily they would have Vesemir wrapped around their fingers. At times the older witcher would praise them for practically nothing and have them sat in his lap as he fed them, all the while Lambert would be all but begging for even a scrap of his attention. 

Eskel was good with his words, batting his eyelashes and asking for their daddy to hold him, to let him suck his cock and call him cute. Geralt was more shy, but he still padded across the room to nuzzle into the man’s neck and gained the sweetest kisses to his hair when he did. Lambert was... Lambert. 

He wouldn’t claim he was left out, always able to just walk up and ask Vesemir for a good pounding or to nurse on his fat cock if he really needed it and never turned away for it, but it was rare for the man to initiate playtime with him. It wasn’t obvious in the same way as it was for Eskel and Geralt, never something he could expect on a day to day basis, rather a privilege he could ask for and get. No, he wasn’t left out. But with a heavy heart Lambert would rather die than admit he felt forgotten. 

Feeling particularly stubborn, Lambert decided to deserve his attention, for their daddy to see what a good boy he was and award him with love and affection, so he sat patiently at dinner and ate his meal before excusing himself. He declined any invitations for a round of gwent and shook his head at the promise of liquor. Instead he declared an early night and fell asleep with a smile on his face knowing he would be such an exceptionally good boy for his daddy tomorrow. 

He was up and out of bed before any of his brothers the next morning, stretched his muscles and going down to the kitchen with his heart fluttering. Entering the room he saw Vesemir by one of the tables, stirring a big pot and humming to himself. He walked over to the man’s side just to show his presence, anticipation dripping from him as the witcher caught his eyes. He didn’t know what he expected from him, maybe a smile and some praise, maybe him declaring how proud he was seeing his boy so eager in the morning for once. A part of him wanted to be bent over the counter and fingered open for his brothers to see when they came to join them, or for the man to guide him to his knees so he could suckle on his cock as the sun rose outside; All of it things he had walked in on during various winters and damned himself for not being there early enough to claim. Whatever it was, he didn’t expect a brief nod and short “ _ mornin’ _ ” before Vesemir averted his gaze and kept stirring the pot. 

Without letting it ruin his efforts, Lambert took to set the table, meticulously putting everything in place instead of lazily tossing it where he deemed appropriate like he normally would, yet it wasn’t even acknowledged as they all sat down for breakfast, Lambert feeling his mood drop as the chair next to him stood empty while Geralt sat upon Vesemir’s lap. Diagonally across from him Eskel was giggling at something their daddy said, his smile bright as he watched the older witcher hand-feed his golden boy. Lambert managed a few spoonfuls before he abandoned his seat, a pout on his face as he took his bowl and rinsed it off in the kitchen. 

He didn’t want to have another tantrum even if it was the most surefire way to gain Vesemir’s attention, either trashing one of his belongings where the rest could see, taking his anger out on a poor training dummy in the courtyard while screaming his lungs out, or picking a fight with his brothers. No, he could be a good boy, could get daddy to recognise him fair and square without causing a scene. He was just as good as his brothers and he could prove it. 

Anticipation built inside of him with every minute that passed, Lambert checking his own mood as often as he could just to appear chipper and pleasant around the others, going as far as to debasing himself for just a sliver of the man’s attention. It always worked for Eskel and Geralt, watching them crawl around and bat their eyelashes as Vesemir cooed and praised them, but why was it that when Lambert dropped his belongings to the floor or stuttered out words no one cared? Why didn’t Vesemir even glance his way as his pup spilled water across his shirt while drinking and kneeled on the rug in front of the open fire for hours waiting for him to see?

A tinge of jealousy ignited a burning rage inside of Lambert when the man kept fawning over his precious favourites, him only stomaching a few bites each meal before pushing the food across his plate with a pout, going to bed hungry yet nauseous with the mere thought of eating anything nonetheless. 

One morning Lambert sat dutifully in the library for hours, a notebook in front of him as he scribbled down information from an old book. Each time someone entered he looked up, never once acknowledged except from a nod and a smile. It was... infuriating, the young witcher hiding his angry sulking by burying his face in the dusty pages as he breathed in slowly and methodically to calm himself down.  _ No tantrums _ , he told himself, a frustrated groan leaving him as his chest burned. 

In a last-ditch effort, Lambert sunk down on the chair and tucked his thighs against his torso, one arm hugging his legs close by the bend of his knees as he lapped at his free hand, soaking his fingers in spit and then sinking them inside himself. He scissored them in and out of his hole, moaning at the feeling and forcing another one in next to the two digits. He had four of them deep inside when Vesemir entered the library once more, Lambert going as far as to spread himself open as wide as he could just to show him his sloppy hole, holding back a moan at the thought of him sinking inside. The man gave him one of those smiles, a warmth settling into his core as the man walked over to him. Passing behind him, Vesemir let his hand graze over his head and fingers scratched his scalp gently, a quick “ _good boy_ ” leaving his mouth before he rounded one of the bookshelves and disappeared into his study. 

The younger witcher almost let out a scream as he heard the door click into place, ripping his fingers out of himself and stuffing his rapidly softening cock back into his clothes again. He took several minutes just pacing around the library to calm down, his fists clenched and body shaking as he fought back his rage. Even when his brothers were being their most adorable and demanding selves, Vesemir never failed to notice him going against all of his instincts to make himself pretty and submissive, always picking up on his degrading behaviour and giving him what he needed so badly without forcing him to beg for it. Vesemir knew it was too much to demand of him, too big of a leap for the witcher to take after years of repressing his emotions and the gradual acceptance of his mentor’s love. 

A heavy lump settled in Lambert’s stomach as he finally calmed down again, sitting himself down on the chair to keep taking notes in his book while the rage was slowly replaced by anxiety. Was Vesemir missing just how badly he wanted - no,  _ needed _ \- him? Even worse, was he ignoring his pup, no longer wanting to take care of him after spending years talking him into opening up? Lambert stopped his train of thought when he felt a heavy weight pressing down on his chest, sucking up his pain and deciding he didn’t want to know. 

After another hour pouring himself over the book, both Geralt and Eskel entering and leaving at various times as he sat there, Lambert felt ready to face their daddy again. He stood up and grabbed the book from the table, rounding the bookshelf and knocked on the door to Vesemir’s study. The man told him to enter and he pushed the door open gently, stepped inside and closed it flush behind him. 

“I... I need help with this.” Lambert held the book up at a random page, Vesemir squinting to get a better look. He asked Lambert to come closer, smiling invitingly as he waved the boy over. The weight on his chest gently lifted and Lambert could feel the lump in his belly dissolve, his own lips quirking up in a shy smile as he padded across the floor slowly. 

He imagined Vesemir pulling him into his lap as he read the text out loud, maybe even shifting his trousers down enough for him to sink down on his cock as he traced the old parchment so Lambert could follow along. He would let the witcher warm his cock as he went on tangents, Lambert barely listening as the man would grind his hard member inside of him slowly and his body would go slack against his. He didn’t even need the help, had just flipped to a page without looking and pointed to it as he shyly stood by the door. He just wanted their daddy’s attention, just needed to know he was still deserving of it. 

He slid the old book across the desk and pointed to a paragraph, waiting patiently for Vesemir to scan the words before he looked up at him. He asked him to come around the desk and join him, a smile making Lambert melt as his efforts would finally yield a result. 

His heart dropped the moment he saw Eskel nuzzled into the man’s crotch, body slumped between his thighs and eyes closed like he was asleep. He wasn’t, his tongue working on the man’s length and lips suckling tenderly while a hand gently scratched his scalp and played with his hair, guiding his mouth over his cock slowly as Vesemir kept his eyes on the book. The lump formed into pure iron and filled his belly up, a cold shiver going down his spine as the weight tripled over his ribcage. He didn’t even know he could breathe still until he felt his lungs expand on their own, letting out an anxiety filled breath through his clenched teeth. 

Vesemir started reading from the book, his words no more than noise to Lambert’s ears as he stared distantly at his brother’s blissed out face as the man pleased their - no,  _ Eskel’s and Geralt’s _ \- daddy. He could feel himself nod and hum as the man spoke, not listening for a moment as his heart hammered in his chest. After a few minutes he reached out and grabbed the book, snapping it close and thanking Vesemir shortly before all but sprinting out of his study. 

He didn’t slam the door on his way out, neither did he let out a loud and agonising scream the moment he was sure he was out of earshot from any of them. And he definitely didn’t have to press the heels of his hands against his eyes to hold back his tears from falling as he slumped down against the brick wall somewhere deep into the keep where he knew no one would go look for him. 

Lambert knew he was being rash as he made his way around the keep, muscles tense and anxiety dripping off him as anger replaced what was left of him. If he couldn’t get Vesemir to pay as much as a second’s attention to him, he would have to force his hand. He wouldn’t give up without trying even if it meant pressuring the man to acknowledge something was wrong. Without a word he brushed past Geralt as he was making his way down the corridor, staring at his feet until he pushed the large door open and stormed out into the snow. 

His thin shirt tugged at him as the wind pulled it along, Lambert continuing on his path until he was stood in the middle of the courtyard. He sat down with his legs crossed over one another in the cold blanket of snow, sinking down until he was covered up to the start of his waist. The night had already begun to settle, Lambert watching the sun slowly trail down across the horizon and bathe the world in it’s golden glow. A few minutes later he was shivering in the darkness with his arms wrapped around his body. 

Lambert hated the cold, always making sure to declare it to anyone close enough to hear and often going on drunken rants whenever the cold air creeped into their weathered keep. His short hair was tussled by the wind and his teeth clattered, his skin going from cold to boiling before settling on a numb ache. Had he been thinking he would have grabbed a coat or a pair of boots before leaving, but something in his mind told him it was better this way, the pain and torture just what Vesemir needed to see to understand what Lambert was going through. His shirt was soaked from the snow whirling around him in the wind and he could feel needles digging into his toes and fingers, his his eyes shut as he tried to filter out any noise and relax. He figured it must have been close to an hour by then, his body starting to struggle with keeping him warm enough to function, his bones aching from the unrelenting storm. 

It‘s just when Lambert was sure a frostbite was catching on that he felt a thick blanket cover his shoulders and strong arms pulled him from the hole he buried himself in. Everything ached as he was straightened out and he was caught just before he toppled over from his legs giving out. The world was rocked as his body was hoisted up into the air, one hand wrapping his legs around the waist of his saviour and another holding him flush against his side. Lambert sunk into the heat and nuzzled close to the skin, warmth spreading across his body from the contact and his lungs filling with the sweet scent of _home_. It took him a few seconds to realise it was Vesemir he breathed in, that the older witcher was carrying him like a child across the stormy courtyard and fixing the woollen blanket over his body. When he does, Lambert sunk even further into the crook of his neck and felt himself doze off. 

It felt like an eternity had passed by the time he was lowered onto the rug just in front of the fire, opening his bleary eyes to the world and feeling the thick wool still wrapped around him. A hum left his throat as Vesemir sunk down behind hid form, rubbing his arms and shoulders to heat him up again while Lambert went boneless against his torso. He could sense the presence of the others, tilted his head to the side and watched as his brothers hovered nervously around the pair with tight lips and clenched jaws. Vesemir rumbled behind him and Lambert saw the men leave, slowly making their way across the room and shooting worried glances his way until the door closed behind them. 

Something warm was placed in Lambert’s lap the moment they were alone, a bowl of hot soup heating up his thighs and making him squirm. Vesemir chuckled and lifted it up for a moment, pulled the blanket over his legs and then sat it back down on top of it to not burn his still frozen skin. 

“Open up, pup,” he ordered, voice soft despite the demand and he gently lifted the spoon up to his lips. Lambert swallowed it down mindlessly, the food heating him up from the inside out and making him settle even more closely against his daddy’s body. There was a fleeting moment that Lambert felt sad about it all, realised that it was more or less the first time since he arrived that winter that the man properly cared for him and he wasn’t even fully awake to appreciate it. With his remaining energy Lambert made sure to commit it all to memory, snuggled close and felt the warmth wash over his form. 

The bowl was soon empty and Lambert warm enough to feel his toes again, Vesemir putting it away and pulling the man up further by his armpits and turning him around. He waited until Lambert found his bearing sitting on his knees, straddled over Vesemir’s thighs as he gave him a sad smile. 

“Why did you do that?” His voice wasn’t accusing, nor was he harsh. His lips were gently placed on the top of Lambert’s head as he awaited the answer, eyebrows furrowed deeply.

“You didn’t even look at me,” he mumbled, Lambert perplexed with the idea of having to explain himself. He almost wanted to cry, to rise from where he was sat and slam more doors until Vesemir would use his brain to understand what had happened. Instead he slumped down over himself and sighed. 

“I-...” Vesemir fell silent as he studied the man, his forehead creased even further as he tried to voice his thoughts. “Lambert, you could have just told me. I would never ignore you if you asked me for my attention.”

Lambert felt his mouth fall open as heat rose across his cheeks, his hands shaking in his lap as he buried his face into the crook of daddy’s neck. He felt lost, trapped in his own body and wanted to disappear. Had Vesemir truly just missed how desperate he had been?

“I did!” He couldn’t contain his own voice anymore, shoulders trembling as he talked into the man’s skin. “I was so good for you! I went to bed on time and I didn’t get shitfaced every night and I woke up early to make us breakfast!”

A lone tear escaped his eyes as he recounted the past days for the man, face growing hotter for each word that left him and his chest puffing up with frustration and hopelessness. He felt his breath draw short, heaving in air as he tried to control himself from breaking down in the man’s lap like a- 

A bad boy.

“I presented myself for you in the library and you didn’t even look at me! A-And when I tried to get your attention again you already had Eskel...” he voice cracked up and he his eyes stung, his volume slowly sinking to a mere whisper as he remembered how he was turned down despite having almost his entire hand spreading him open for his daddy. “It’s _always_ Eskel and Geralt... always...”

Lambert whimpered as his entire frame trembled and shook, shoulders tense as he couldn’t keep his tears from falling anymore. He ground his face into the older witcher’s shirt, swallowing down his pathetic sobs and wished he could be anywhere but in the man’s lap. 

Strong arms slowly moved up to hold him, almost crushing Lambert’s body against his own in a long, warm embrace. Lambert kept sucking in his breath through his tears, a drawn out and quiet wail leaving him against his will. He felt something arise in the familiar scent, something dark and  _ bad _ filling his nostrils. Sitting back up slowly, Lambert saw the pained expression on Vesemir’s face, guilt wafting off of the man in waves and building a cloud of anxiety around the two. He moved in to hug his pup closer again, trailing soft kisses along his collarbone and up his neck, hands stroking soothing circles over his back as he apologised quietly. 

Lambert sunk into the touch and soon felt the same hands strip him of his wet clothes, tossing them elsewhere for later and guiding the witcher to his side on the rug. Without the cold fabric against his skin, Lambert could feel himself heat up even quicker, enveloped by the warmth of the open fire and his aching bones finally finding some rest. Behind him, Vesemir gave himself the same treatment and settled down against his back with his chest flush against Lambert’s back, burying his face into the man’s neck and placing loving kisses against his skin. 

Lambert had no clue where the man had kept the oil, suspecting it had been on his person before he even found the boy in the snow, but a small vial was gently tipped over the back of his thighs and the liquid slowly massaged into his flesh. Some shuffling later he felt a half hard cock push in between his thighs and rubbing against the underside of his own member, gliding smoothly against his balls. He groaned into Vesemir’s arm he had tucked under him as a pillow, pushing back against his lazy thrusts and feeling so close to bursting from just those few seconds. The older witcher kept up his movements, rocking slowly and methodically against him while mouthing sweet nonsense against Lambert’s pulse, his breath hitching for just a moment as he spilled himself across the boy’s thighs and cock. The scent of his come mixing with his own lust made Lambert keen, his mind blanking as a rough hand enveloped his own length and rubbed the seed into his skin. With a moan Lambert came, shuddering through his orgasm and going boneless as the afterglow overtook him. 

They fell asleep to the sound of each other’s heartbeats, the thick woollen blanket drawn over their forms as the fire crackled on into the night. 

**Author's Note:**

> Didn’t include the end to the prompt, but this was already getting very long so I feel like it has a good conclusion nonetheless!  
> Visit my tumblr @whaticannotshowyou for more content!


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